There is a Neil deGrasse Tyson video that I watched early on in my parenting journey that has helped me ever since. In the video, Tyson points out that when a child makes a mess, or destroys something, or does something seemingly with the only purpose being to drive a parent insane, they’re really just experimenting. Everything around a child is new to them. When a child throws their plate off the table for the tenth time, they’re doing their tenth experiment to see how that plate flies, where it lands, and how the food splatters.
Children aren’t trying to make a mess. They’re trying to experiment. When you realize this fact you can also realize that being too harsh on a child making a mess sometimes discourages them from experimentation that can help their mind grow.
It goes without saying that sometimes you need to draw the line: some experiments can be dangerous, and that eleventh plate throw doesn’t necessarily need to happen.
I couldn’t find the exact Neil deGrasse Tyson video I saw those years ago, but these three videos share similar messages that I believe are extremely beneficial for parents to see, especially new parents.
“Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3).
I think about this scripture often. There are so many traits of children. Which ones were Jesus Christ primarily referring to?
Humility.
Kindness.
Trust.
Faith.
Joy.
Enthusiasm.
Curiosity.
Forgiving.
Energetic.
I read this quote recently:
“Your child is endlessly curious — maybe you’ll learn something, too. Your child is so enthusiastic — maybe some of that energy will rub off on you. Your child is forgiving — no matter what happens today, you can count on a 3-year-old to start tomorrow with a fresh outlook and ready smile. Your child sees the world with wonder.”
I think that quote sums up what Christ meant when He said we should be like children.
Curious.
Enthusiastic.
Forgiving.
Fresh outlook.
Ready smile.
Wonder.
In the midst of being a parent – the chaos of day-to-day life – sometimes it’s easy to forget the miracle that children are. I’m glad I have my kids to look at every day and see the wonder, the ready smiles, the fresh outlooks. The forgiveness, the enthusiasm, and the curiosity.
As I sit here finishing writing this and Sage slowly walks around a coffee table with a little toy motorcycle, and sees me looking at her, and excitedly holds up the motorcycle and says “Look Daddy!” And Ivy, pretending to be Luna Lovegood, brings me, Harry Potter, a new “project” of French fries and dominos on a paper plate, and happily gives it to me, I’m reminded that I need to be a little more childlike today.
I’ll put this away now so I can go be a child with my girls.
This would have been the fifth installment of “Ivy Thoughts” but instead we get our first “Ivy and Sage Thoughts”! Welcome to my world of two adorable daughters. Come on in.
Let’s start with Sage since she’s new to the segment. She hasn’t started forming full sentences yet, but it’s time she became an official part of these posts.
Sage loves the Bluey song. For those who aren’t familiar, you can click HERE.
In the song where it yells “Mom,” “Dad,” “Bingo,” and “Bluey” Sage yells “Dad!” every time. If she hears that song she stops, stares, and yells “Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!” I enjoy her rendition of the theme song.
Sage is off the charts shy, including around family she doesn’t get to see that often. It’s really interesting because this “shyness,” for lack of a better term, has been a part of Sage since she was a baby. When she was a baby she would sometimes start screaming and crying if someone looked at her. That has continued into her toddler-hood.
Sage doesn’t like extra attention on her, besides from Beth and I. There was a moment where this became clear. We were doing Sage’s first birthday party at her grandparents. There were great grandparents, aunts, uncles and family there. We put a cake and candles in front of Sage. We sang happy birthday to her. What would normally be a dream come true, a whole cake in front of her, turned quickly to a nightmare when we finished singing and she looked around at all this mass amount of love and attention on her. Sage burst into tears. The collective attention and singing was too much for her to take.
We’ve seen my family four weekends in the last 6 weeks. Every time we see my family Sage needs at least 24 hours to warm up. She will not go near anyone, gets upset if she gets picked up (or even looked at), and is excessively shy. She will cling to Beth or myself, often laying her head on our shoulder or snuggling her face into our arm to avoid anyone looking at her.
What’s interesting about this is Sage is the outgoing one between her and Ivy. Sage is wild and crazy and outgoing when comfortable. But if there are strangers around, she gets quiet and closes in on herself. I think I’m like this. It’s interesting how our characteristics are passed onto our children and how some things are just built into us, even as babies. Sage is shy and reserved the same way I was always shy and reserved growing up.
This past weekend when we were with my family it was fascinating watching Sage’s transformations. At one point Sage was sitting on my lap outside. My mom was in a chair across from us. Sage was snuggling next to me and being her normal (for this weekend) shy, quiet, timid self with my mom nearby. My mom got up to walk inside. The second she was gone Sage stood up and started laughing and screaming and playing. It was an instant transformation. She loves my family once she warms up. Once she warms up she’s crazy and laughing and playing, but until then she is terrified of any outside attention coming her way.
Sage has inherited plenty of nicknames already. Some of her nicknames include Sagey Sunshine, Sagerific, Rif, Rific, Sage Laura, Roo, and Smudge. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. That’s to say nothing of the dozens and dozens of nicknames Ivy has given her.
One last special Sage moment that I think exemplifies strong second child. I dropped Ivy and Sage off at school recently. This was out of the ordinary as Beth usually takes them to school and Ivy was letting it be known this was not in routine. She was crying, saying she was sick, and making a big hubub. While Ivy was melting down I set all our stuff down – snacks for the school for the day, draw bags of washed sheets, lunch boxes, and waters. The teacher patiently gathered all our stuff while I consoled Ivy. Sage meanwhile had walked in through the first gate and was waiting to be let in to go play. The teacher was holding Ivy’s lunch box and looking around. “Where is Sage’s lunchbox?” She asked looking all over the place. I looked around too. It was just there. Sage walked back from the second gate and pointed on the shelf where she had set her lunchbox. She then turned around with a complete, “See the people I have to deal with?” look on her face as she waited to be let in to school to start playing.
Now onto some classic Ivy thoughts.
After getting home late from grandparents’ home one night, I asked Ivy for a hug and a kiss. She gave me a big hug then she got her face really close to mine and said, “sticker time,” patted her chest and said, “Ivy tired” and got into bed. Still not sure what sticker time meant or was referring to.
Ivy flushed a toy down the toilet. I told her if she did that again the toilet would break and we’d need to go to the store when we needed to go to the bathroom. She seemed perplexed about this and continued to ask questions. I emphasized that flushing things down the toilet could break the toilet. “I break the house?” She asked. Seizing the opportunity to potentially get her to understand the severity of flushing something down the toilet I replied, “Yes, flushing toys down the toilet could break the whole house.” This had a big impact. She proceeded to tell Beth that she was worried she was going to break the house.
The next day we were at church. Beth took Ivy to the bathroom. Ivy looked up at Beth and said, “If I flush a toy down the toilet, I break the church?” Beth told me later, that time I caught Ivy flushing a toy down the toilet was the second straight day Ivy had flushed something down the toilet at home. Beth hadn’t told me because she didn’t want me to freak out. Well, now Ivy is convinced our house is going to collapse into a pile of rubble if she flushes anything besides toilet paper down the toilet. She hasn’t put anything in the toilet since. Parenting win.
Ivy really doesn’t like crane flies. They freak her out. We explained to Ivy that crane flies aren’t bad. They’re actually pretty good because they don’t bother people, but they eat the little bugs that annoy us. Ivy said, “They kill little bugs?” “Yes,” we replied. “They don’t kill people?” That made us laugh. “No,” we explained, “they don’t even hurt people.” Ivy said, “I’m glad they don’t kill people.”
There’s a toy I grew up with called Playmobil. They’re little figures that I played with nonstop. I still love Playmobil. Ivy has the same love of them and they are all she plays with when we visit Grandma and Grandpa Q’s house in Las Vegas. Ivy has the same love of order that I do and can spend hours lining them up in orderly groups.
These little figures have plastic hair pieces that click into their heads. When a Playmobil figure is missing its hair its head becomes bowl-like. The top of their head basically becomes a hole. Ivy saw a Playmobil figure without its hair once and exclaimed, “Oh no! He has a hole in his head. Let me see the hole in your head.” I showed Ivy the spot in the back of my head where hair still doesn’t completely grow. “Awww,” she said sympathetically.
Before one more heartwarming story, I’ll share a full on threenager moment. This morning Ivy got out of bed and came out of her room. I was just about to walk out the door. Ivy does the cutest thing right now. She walks out and says, “Good morning, Dad, Cory is here” (new alias, Cory Matthews from Boy Meets World).
I said, “Good morning, Cory, come give me a hug before I leave for work.”
She walked over and said, “A hug and a big smooch.”
She hugged and kissed my leg. I put my arm around her and patted her head. She started to walk away then came back and did it again. I again patted her head. She started to walk away then came back again. Same process. I started to think she was broken when on the fourth return walk she said, with feirce anger in her eyes, “No, no, no, Dad, don’t touch my head.” So I didn’t touch her head this time and she hugged my leg, gave it a kiss, and walked away. Then she turned around and looked at me and said, “When you touch my head my hair gets so so so crazy! Don’t pat my head, Dad!” She was holding back tears as she walked to our room to say good morning to Beth. As she walked into our room she slammed our door. The teenage years are going to be great, I can feel it.
But to balance that, let’s end with a heartwarming Ivy moment. Ivy recently hugged me one night and looked up at me and said, “You’re the best, Dad.”
Before anyone gets mad at me, let me clarify. I think short-term, temporary, not too dangerous, not too terrible sickness can be a great blessing. I’m talking the colds, the stomach bugs, the flu, the non-life threatening sicknesses are the best. Being sick sucks. It’s miserable. I’m the cliché ‘whine and cry more than anyone about being sick’ person, but, I am so grateful for sickness.
Let me elaborate with a specific example.
Sage started throwing up like crazy at 9:30pm, soon after going to bed. I got her out of bed. She was projectile vomiting and writhing in pain. We ended up at the hospital. We brought Sage home around 1:30am.
Sage went right to sleep in our bed with Beth. I slept on the couch. I think I finally fell asleep around 2:00am. At 4:00am I awoke to a familiar sound, but this time it wasn’t Sage. My worry had come true. Ivy was crying. I ran to her room and turned on the light to find her, her pillow, and her quilt covered in throw up.
I knew more was coming and was too exhausted to do the whole strip the bed and cleanup routine so I’m ashamed (not really, actually) to say I just cleaned it up and told Ivy to lay back down. I wiped her mouth, got a bucket, made sure she was comfortable, got a blanket and pillow for myself, and laid down next to her.
For the next 2.5 hours, I could have set my watch to Ivy throwing up. Every 20 minutes from 4:00am to 6:20am when we finally got up, she would throw up. Just enough time for me to start to doze off while holding her hand. I’d hear it start, I’d jump up and give her the bucket, I’d wipe up any that missed, I’d wipe her mouth. Rinse repeat (pun intended?).
This all sounds miserable, right? Where is the blessing in this? This is horrible!
Well, it kind of is. No doubt it is heartbreaking watching your little ones be sick. It is heartbreaking. They can’t control it. They don’t know what’s going on. It’s sad.
At 6:20am Ivy and I got up and cuddled on the couch. We put on the cartoon Doug by Ivy’s demand. 18 minutes into a 23-minute episode she said, “This episode is too long put on something else.”
Ivy and I proceeded to have a Boy Meets World marathon. She was Sean for the rest of the day. I was Cory. Sage was Morgan. Sometimes I was Allen. If you don’t know those characters, step up your Boy Meets World knowledge.
Sage woke up around 8am or something. This is all a blur now as I hadn’t really slept at all. Sage ate some grapes and I immediately put her back to sleep. Ivy and I were back to our marathon.
Beth mentioned I should go pick up our prescription of Zofran. As exhausted as I was, I decided this was the best opportunity for me to do that. Ivy was getting tired. She went into the room with Beth to lie down and I packed up to go down the street to the pharmacy.
Oh did I mention Beth was sick the whole day too? Side note, this is how things go in our family, I’ll likely be puking my guts out 24-48 hours after the rest of the family, I always catch these things on a delay. We joke it’s my Quackenbush DNA. My girls only have 50% of the Quackenbush DNA. The virus will get me, but I’ll fight it off for a while. (I can even more gratefully say now, as I wrote this a couple weeks ago, that I never got this sickness, boo-yah).
I came back from the pharmacy and luckily got to sleep for an hour(?) before Sage woke up. I got Sage up and fed her some food. We spent an hour bonding, cuddling, and snuggling in the living room before Ivy woke up. I put Sage back to sleep and Ivy and I continued our BMW marathon before going on a walk.
We walked around the neighborhood, sat in the grass, played eye spy.
You get the picture.
Came back. Sage was up. Feed Sage. Bathe Sage.
Long day.
Awesome day.
It’s so hard to slow down in this world.
Sickness makes us slow down. This was a special day. This is a day I will treasure.
There were so many special moments. Like on our walk when Ivy held my hand to make me feel safe. Or when Ivy asked on our walk if I knew where the dumpster was and then told me, “You’re absolutely right.” All those sad but tender moments of grabbing a bucket and holding Ivy and telling her, “I’m here, you’re OK, I’ve got you” while she retched and threw up. Sage cuddling in my lap and looking up at me and I knew she knew she was safe and going to be okay. Seeing Sage and Ivy get better before my eyes – getting back to their normal selves.
There were so many moments that were so important with my girls that day.
I wouldn’t have had those moments if not for their sickness.
Being sick is miserable. But it can also be really special.
One final memorable moment – Ivy was going potty and I was about to get in the shower. I told her, “I’m going to shower and when I get out I’ll get you some food. You can have nachos or noodles or toast or crackers or a sandwich. Think about what you want when I get out.” Ivy’s response, “Dad, I’m not going to think of all those things.”
****Disclaimer before reading this post. Of course I have the greatest family and Beth. The world wasn’t completely lonely. My world has always been amazing. I thank God daily for that, and don’t know what I did to deserve it. I love my family and I love Beth. I’ve been so blessed. But that didn’t fit into the point of this post. So, I’m putting this disclaimer before writing.
Tolkien inspires a lot of thoughts in me. His writing is flush with eternal truths.
I’m reading The Book of Lost Tales Part 1 (I wrote this in 2022, I’m now on book 5).
This book includes the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien that were never put to print in his lifetime. His son has since edited and published the writings.
In this book, the tale of the coming of the Eldar, or the elves, is told. The Valar (Gods of Earth) had been on the earth for an untold amount of time. They knew one day the children of Ilúvatar (the one God, their creator) would come one day. That day finally came. This is how it is described in the book:
“Then shouted all the people of Valinor: “I-Eldar tulier – the Eldar have come” – and it was not until that hour that the Gods knew that their joy had contained a flaw, or that they had waited in hunger for its completion, but now they knew that the world had been an empty place beset with loneliness having no children for her own.”
That is precisely how I feel about Ivy and Sage. What was the world before them? It was a lonely place. What did I do before them? Play basketball and video games? What was life?
It wasn’t until they came that I truly understood what mattered. I’ve written about my world flippingupside down before. That passage from The Book of Lost Tales Part 1 describes it perfectly.
Ivy was recently watching a child’s video before church on Sunday.
In the video, ten children were standing outside waiting for a bus to take them on a field trip. The children were going to a zoo and the ten children each listed what animal they were excited to see.
In the animated video, 5 of the children were holding lunch sacks. The other 5 children were empty-handed. The 5 children with lunch sacks asked the 5 children without lunch sacks where their lunches were. The 5 children without lunch sacks had been busy playing and hadn’t prepared their lunches.
The 5 children without lunch sacks said it would be fine. They said they would go make their lunches. But at that moment the bus pulled up.
You know the story.
I’m not going to reiterate the parable of the ten virgins here. What I’m going to do is elaborate on what this particular video made me think about with this parable.
In this video, the children were irresponsible and didn’t prepare for their field trip and therefore would go hungry on their field trip. This is consistent with the traditional ten virgins story.
What this representation made me think of, as many things do now, is of parenting. I looked at those 5 children without lunch sacks as young children, let’s go with kindergarten. As I watched, it was my opinion that it wasn’t fully those kindergarteners’ responsibility to prepare their lunch. It was likely their parents who didn’t prepare a lunch for them to take to the field trip. As my mind expounded upon this thought, I thought of all the reasons parents might not prepare a lunch for their children. Reasons include not having enough money to pack their child a lunch, not having enough time due to a busy work schedule, not being organized enough to remember to prepare their child a lunch, forgetting because a million other things are going on, or simply not caring enough to pack their child a lunch.
I felt bad for those 5 children. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t have sack lunches. They were not prepared because their parents didn’t prepare them.
As a kid who literally went on some field trips without lunch, I could sympathize with these children (love you Mom and Dad).
You get this isn’t about sack lunches right?
It is the responsibility of parents to prepare our children for the second coming of Jesus Christ. Just writing that, I realize most people mock the very idea. This is why we go to church. This is why we study scriptures as a family. This is why I read Ivy and Sage Bible and Book of Mormon stories. This is why we pray before every dinner and before bedtime. This is why I take Ivy with me to church meetings and to visit members of the ward.
I’m grateful I was prepared with a spiritual sack lunch as I was raised. Even if my parents don’t think they prepared my sack lunch with enough sustenance, it was prepared. I was given the preparation, and I hope, despite all the shortcomings I’ll demonstrate in raising my girls, that my girls have a lunch with them on their field trip of life.
I’d like to briefly go over those reasons parents don’t prepare their children.
1 – Not having enough money to pack their child a lunch – this represents not having enough resources themselves. The church and those around you will make up the difference. Try.
2 – Not having enough time due to a busy work schedule – I get being busy, I get it as much as anyone. We must make time for the most important things. We are preparing ourselves and our children to survive in a turbulent world and the world to come. NOTHING is more important.
3 – Not being organized enough to remember to prepare their child a lunch – this one hits home hard. Sometimes I feel like I’m not organized enough and can’t give my children, my ward members, my family, and everyone around me all I can give. All we can do is try our best. Christ sees our efforts and He sanctifies and then magnifies those efforts.
4 – Forgetting because a million other things are going on – feigned ignorance will not be an adequate excuse when we stand before the Lord and tell Him we didn’t prepare these tender little ones to know Him because we were too busy and forget. Realign your priorities.
5 – Not caring enough to pack their child a lunch – this goes with point four above but is absolutely inexcusable.
We have been given the stewardship of these children. We must rear them in righteousness.
Jesus Christ is coming. It’s a fact. The world wants to deny it and focus on everything else. But it’s happening, and it’s important we prepare ourselves and our children.
I am grateful to be a member of Christ’s Church and to have the great honor of raising two chloice spirits to know and worship Him. This is the greatest honor I could have in this life. It is a great honor and a great responsibility. I hope to one day stand before the judgment seat of Jesus Christ and tell Him, “I’m sorry. I know I made many mistakes. But I hope I did my best. Thank you for giving me these daughters that blessed me so. I hope that I made you proud.”
No Coincidences 